


Foolish Fragile Spine

by ardett



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Beaches, Buried Alive, Gen, Introspection, i guess?, suffocation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 23:09:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11838951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardett/pseuds/ardett
Summary: During a day at the beach, Lance finds himself trapped beneath the sand.





	Foolish Fragile Spine

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a prompt exchange with [langsty-mc-langstface](https://langsty-mc-langstface.tumblr.com/)! I was given the prompt: the team goes to a beach and Lance digs a big hole but then the sand caves in on him. Classic angst :)
> 
> You can find the other part of exchange [here](https://langsty-mc-langstface.tumblr.com/post/164308855010/lance-cringed-when-shiro-patted-him-on-the-back-a)

They’re all looking for a reprieve from the war and its endless preparations, so when Allura suggests a beach day for “team bonding,” they jump on it readily. 

The landing the castle makes is not its usual ground shaking collision. It’s gentler, the floor tilting beneath them as the ship settles on the flowing grains of sand. As the hatch opens, the first thing that hits Lance is the smell. It’s briny, something like salt already sticking to his skin, like the beaches on Earth. (He can’t quite remember the taste of the ocean on his tongue after so long. He wants to say that this beach smells like the ones of his childhood but maybe it’s only replacing his rusting memories. )

Another inch of the hatch is lowered and the first glimpse of the sky can be seen. Like Earth’s, it’s blue, but one or two shades too light. Just off enough to notice. The few clouds that drift across the horizon are shifting and iridescent, shimmering like oily rainbows. Most startling is the sand, gold as Rumpelstiltskin’s thread with bits of emerald green and turquoise. Under Lance's bare toes, it is ash fine. (And he has felt ash beneath him before.)

He closes his eyes for a moment, just a moment, and feels the sunlight on his face, warm as Cuba’s heat. He pushes everything else to the back of his mind and plasters a smile on his face.

“Let’s go!”

 

After a mandatory and far too intense game of volleyball by order of Allura, everyone is left to their own devices.

Pidge sets up her computer under an umbrella, casually chatting to a tanning Coran. Hunk found a snorkel from somewhere on the ship and dipped into the calm waters to try and find some wildlife. Lance had joined him for a little bit before treading back to land.

With Keith and Shiro playing a one-on-one match and no eyes on him, Lance drifted farther down the beach, kicking up clouds of dusty sand in plumes of color.

In the back of his mind, there was a small and innocuous memory of a child’s hands digging in the sand, digging for treasure, digging a moat for a fortress, digging to an elusive pool of water far below. 

He drags his heels through the granular as the grains grow coarser underfoot. He blinks as he looks at the trails behind him. There, under the golden sand, lovely moss green peaks out.

Lance pauses, glancing to the ground with a furrow in his brow. He digs with his feet, rocks and sediment sticking between his toes, before getting down on his hands and knees to properly excavate.

Sure enough, there under a few inches of yellow, is darling green, and as Lance digs farther down, green gives way to deep blue. The sand, Lance realizes, is layered like a sedimentary rock, a hidden rainbow beneath the surface.

Lance leaves momentarily to find a spade-shaped rock before resuming his quest.

A smile tugs a his lips as he reaches the next layer, a Queen of Hearts red like no beach he’s ever seen on Earth.

The hole is deep now and Lance digs out the sides so he can climb in. As he continues, it occurs to him that he could be surrounded by riches, like some kind of hoarding dragon. The colors are deep enough to be called jewel tones, bits of topaz, emerald, sapphire, ruby, and now, as he carves out the floor of his hole, amethyst. Riches, of course, have no value to them out here. Even if he stumbled on a cavern of diamonds, what good would it do? A pretty trinket? A souvenir?

At the thought, Lance’s hands hesitate and then stop altogether. His faithful rock drops from his hands and he follows it, sitting down on the bottom of his pit. He looks to the sky, two shades too light, and blinks back sudden tears.

The worst part about this war is how hard it is to hold onto happiness. He has forgotten how to experience the simple joys without everything else crashing down around him. 

Why are they here, messing around on a sunny beach? Why are they here, fighting an impossible war? Why is  _ he _ here?

He lets out a heavy sigh before forcing himself to his feet. He’s been here too long. He should probably be heading back anyway.

As an afterthought, he grabs a decent sized gem from each layer and stuffs them in his pockets. Maybe he’ll make them into bracelets for the other paladins or something.

Lance narrows his eyes at the edge of his hole, now a decent two feet above his head. Too far to jump. The sand on this stretch of the beach is coarse enough to shape, so with a few jabs from his hands and feet, Lance makes divots to climb his way out.

It’s just at the top when things go wrong.

Lance grabs the edge of the hole, pressing down to hoist himself up, when the sand under his fingers gives way. He scrambles for the sides but the sand only loosens and falls down with him almost mockingly. He lands flat on his back, ribs aching and the air knocked out of him. He lays there, stunned, when he notices movement on the edge of his vision.

His last handhold, the one that had crumbled beneath him, had been right next to his pile of excess sand. He watches with horror as the foundation shifts and suddenly, collapses completely. And all that sand comes tumbling into the hole.

There’s a second that feels like an hour when those beautiful shifting colors are suspended above him. 

The sand blocks out the sun, like some sort of innocent cloud.

Lance has the wherewithal to take a deep breath and cover his face before the lid slides over his coffin.

 

It’s so dark.

It’s so dark and cold and  _ damp. _

And quiet.

His hyperventilating is the loudest thing down here, breath too warm and too fast on the inside of his arms. It doesn't hurt, the pressure, but he can barely move his legs and he's too terrified to move his arms away from his face and risk his bubble of space being smothered.

Is it getting hotter? It feels like it's getting hotter and how long can he last down here without fresh air until it's just muggy carbon dioxide cycling uselessly through his lungs, oh god-

He screams but the sound is swallowed by the sand. He was already a ways away from the others and now he's six feet under, buried alive. They can't hear him.

They're not coming.

No, no, he's not going to wither away like this, not after saving lives and defending the universe,  _ no! _ This is not the way he's going out.

Lance squeezes his eyes shut and forces himself to turn over. It feels like someone is pressing down on his shoulder blades, like his spine is going to cave in, but he pushes onto his hands and knees, demanding the sand to make space for him.

He reaches out, feeling where the sand is loosely packed, and digs his fingers in.

(There's no light. He could be digging a deeper grave. He has to believe he isn't.)

He pushes upwards. He slips the first two times he tries to stand before he gets enough traction and even then, it's a crouch. Sand dislodges all around him, falling into the new shape of his body, around his nose and mouth.

He panics, hands desperately flailing to cover his face and fingers scrambling to dig away the sand on his lips. He doesn't know how long he stays there, crouched down pathetically and breathing into his cupped palms.

It's so dark. It's so dark and cold and it feels like his energy is sapping away.

Oh god, there's so much sand, he doesn't even know how deep he is.

He has to get out. He has to, he  _ has to, _ he didn't leave behind everything he loves to die crying and trembling in a hole. He has a responsibility to the universe and universe didn't send for him only for him to go like this.

He has to keep going.

He takes one more deep, sticky breath and starts clawing his way back up.

His joints ache, grinding together as he pushed up against the pressure, but he ignores it. Grains of sand catch under his nails and scrape against his skin. His lungs are starting to protest now and he ducks down his chin to try and make a small space to breath. He tells his body it's enough (even though it isn't).

He's starting to feel lightheaded, how close to the top is he? How long has it been? He doesn't know.

He thought his eyes were closed (it's so dark) but suddenly light is piercing its way down to him. His hand grapples for more sand but comes away empty, only air between his fingers. A tendril of cool air snakes down his throat and Lance is gasping, gasping-

Someone calls his name and then hands are grabbing his, hauling him out of the ground, and as the sand falls away, Lance crumples into someone's arms, Hunk’s arms.

Hunk is muttering something, clutching Lance to his chest and frantically smoothing down his hair. Lance can't stop heaving air into his lungs and after a while, he realizes he's sobbing. 

 

He sleeps with the covers off and the lights on for the next week.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GnkzvAXWV-0)


End file.
